


Tea-Bags, Emerald Rings and Muggle Supermarkets

by Ladderofyears



Series: Shipmas 2018 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Lovely, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Albus Severus has had a long day. He's tired, and ready to go home. A quick stop at Tesco has unexpected consequences, however, and things just might change for the better.





	Tea-Bags, Emerald Rings and Muggle Supermarkets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonLord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonLord/gifts).



> I really loved writing Mrs. Weasley's Christmas Jumpers, but after I had posted it felt profoundly annoyed with both Albus and Scorpius! I started writing this that same afternoon. I wanted to cover some of the same themes and ideas, but in this version, I think that Albus gets the happy ending he deserves. I hope you enjoy it; I certainly loved writing it.

Albus moved as quickly as he could through the Muggle supermarket. It was three days till Christmas, and the whole place was thronged with shoppers. He was exhausted. It had been a long day, filled with sniping colleagues, a wireless that was just slightly too loud and more questions than his patience could realistically tolerate. He needed to focus on getting those particular Earl Grey teabags that he wanted, fast as he could, and getting out of there. It had been a bad day and a bugger of a month. Basically, this whole year could disapparate as far as Al was concerned. 

And it wasn’t like Al made a habit of shopping in Muggle places, either. He’d tended to stay close to the Wizarding community in the past months. So much better to avoid the memories; avoid the sights, sounds and places that would make his heart jolt. Avoid the places that remind him of Scorpius. Scor, who used to drink so much Earl Grey that he tasted of bergamot when they kissed. Who used to say the day hadn’t started without a cuppa, and would often flatly refuse to go to bed unless Al made him the drink. 

Even Albus, a coffee drinker since Hogwarts had caught onto the habit. When he’d realised he’d run out of the drink earlier, Al had thought this was his chance to give up the habit. Carve off another part of the boy that he’d lost. But here he was, craving the taste, the scent and the memories that alongside them. All Al needed to be was quick. He knew exactly where the tea-bags were kept. He could be in and out in a matter of minutes. 

Only, of course, that was never going to happen. Because there he was stood. Scorpius Malfoy, a box of that same tea in his hands. 

Shock-waves rattled though Al, and his heart sped up. Still so lithe, so tall, Scorpius hadn’t changed any in the six months that they’d been apart. The same ink stains on his fingers, that same look of focussed concentration on his face. That same green wool jumper that Al had peeled from his lover’s form, Scor laughing, as Al had thrown it to the floor.

Al wanted to flee. He could feel his face redden, and his palms start to sweat. He would have to speak now, and for the love of Merlin, he had no idea about what exactly he could say to to his former lover. 

Albus hadn’t seen Scorpius in six months. He’d even stopped getting the Prophet in fear of a stray photograph firing a curse his heart couldn’t bare. They hadn’t written, and the sheer absence of Scor in his life had broken Albus. The stinging words of their last fight flew around Al’s head; he remembered the shouts and screams. He knew that both of them had said things they regretted, the sort of words that sting harder than hexes and can never be unsaid. 

It was just that Al had been so tired of coming second. Never the one taken to the posh restaurants. Never the one on the front cover of the Prophet. It was ironic, really. The Malfoy family had worked so hard to wipe away the shame of the war, and reclaim their place in Wizarding society, but the slur of an heir who loved boys? Scor couldn’t risk it getting in the papers. Couldn’t risk the headlines that would come with their relationship. So it had stayed hidden. Flatmates, who shared their Earl Grey, their showers and even their bloody bed. 

It had been the front-cover sight of Scor kissing the cheek of a beautiful debutant, barely out of Hogwarts. Her face was a picture of dewy beauty as she had turned to her face to him. The paper had snidely wondered whether the richest wizard of his age might finally choose to marry, and whether Albus might serve as Best Man? Al’s temper, always his ugliest feature, had reared its head. He’d taken off the emerald engagement ring, part of the matching pair that they both wore, and flung it at Scor’s head. 

The silence that followed was foul, and the regret Al’s part was immediate. 

They had brought those rings on the day they left school, the day they secretly swore they would marry, one day, and show their love to the world. Emerald green for Slytherin, perhaps; but also green for Al’s eyes and for the Pepper Imps they had shared on the train, all those years before. The thrown ring had marked his boyfriend's cheek, and Scor flinched when Al had tried to heal him. Scorpius had left their flat, and not returned for hours. 

When Scorpius returned they had talked into the morning. Talked of Scor’s fears, his parents expectations. What the world would say about them. 

And Scor hadn’t been ready for that. And he couldn’t say if he ever would be. 

They’d embraced then, their tears mingling, their arms around each other. When the sun had risen, they had found themselves still on the sofa, as close as they’d ever been. Just like when Scorpius felt poorly, or when Al had one of his nightmares. But this time was different, because this time they had agreed. They were over, and Albus needed to try to find a life outside of Scor’s shadow. 

Albus had to go to work. While he was there Scorpius packed up all those things that were his alone and moved back to the Manor. Al couldn’t stand the flat without him, without the smell of bergamot and the sound of Scor’s laughter. He’d felt like a failure and so moved out a month later. 

But here Scorpius was, and any second now, he was going to turn around. And then Al would be lost again, just in time for Christmas. 

*

Al had to get out of there. He couldn’t have Scor see him, buying the tea-bags that had been their private joke. Have him see how the sight of Scorpius still made his head spin and his throat constrict. He absolutely couldn’t have him see how hard he was currently struggling to breath. He turned on his heal and started to move hastily away. There was nothing for it. He had to get out of there. 

And Merlin, but of course that was the exact moment when Scorpius turned, their eyes meeting. Scor’s face lit up in recognition. Albus would probably still have ran, but then Scor started to walk over. 

*

For a horrible, wonderful second Al thought that Scorpius was going to hug him. Al had even pulled his hands from his pockets, ready to receive those long, warm arms around his shoulders. Breathe in that fantastic bergamot and clove smell of Scorpius. The image seemed so vivid, so real, that when Scor only smiled, his heart actually skipped a beat. That Scor wasn’t his to touch, even behind closed doors, seemed so terribly unfair. 

“Albus”, Scor said with another of those smiles. They weren't even real. When Scorpius smiled, his whole face shone. He smiled with his whole self. “I can’t believe that you’re here! Of all the places in London…? Tesco?”

“Tea-bags”, Albus said, casting his eyes over to the box still held in Scor’s hand. “Still unaccountably addicted to the bloody stuff. Wasn’t any in the cupboard before I came to work… Can’t sleep without a cup before bed”

“Yeah, I remember”, Scor said shortly. 

The silence stretched out between the two of them. It felt awkward in a way that Al and Scorpius had never, ever been. Of course Scor remembered. How they’d messed about, telling each other it was their turn to charm the bloody kettle on. How Al would whinge if it wasn’t milky enough. Al knew he had to speak, although the words felt like stones in his throat. 

“Thought you moved back to the Manor? With the legions of House- Elves you’ve got at your disposal, I’m surprised to see you slumming it with the Muggles”

Scor broke eye contact with Al at this, focussing on the tea-bags as if they were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. 

“Yeah, well…. What's that thing Muggles say? You can’t go home again?… Whoever said it made a good point. All those formal robes and three course meals? I left after a month… Got a flat near Diagon. Not far from our old place actually”

Well, that was enough to make Al’s heart twist out of shape again. Scorpius living near their old flat? Presumably taking his debutants to the local pub they’d frequented; to the cafes where they’d read the papers over coffee. Bloody hell, Al really needed to leave. It must be that this was his life now. Running away from Muggle supermarkets. 

“Look Scor, I’m going to go. Its been a bugger of a day. Christmas, you know?… Look, take care, okay? It was nice to see you again”

And with that, Albus turned and walked away. He didn’t even bother with the tea-bags. 

*

Al was so intent on his own misery that he failed to hear the footsteps behind him. Sleet fell around him but casting an Impervious wandless felt quite beyond him at that moment. Albus was almost back to the Wizarding Quarter of London when he became aware of Scor’s presence beside him. Flushed pink with his running, and the cold of the evening, Al thought sadly how beautifully dishevelled he looked. 

“Al! Why did you rush off? I wanted to talk to you, see how you were… We’ve not spoken in ages. I never see you any more! You’re never at the cafe, the pub… You moved out of the flat you loved”

If anything the sleet seemed to grow heavier as Albus and Scorpius stood together. Al could feel it soaking into his shoulders, his coat little protection from the chill. Al looked at Scorpius, and he could see how conflicted he was, see the thoughts whirl around his mind. He suddenly felt very tired. 

“Merlin, Scor! What do you actually want? You told me directly that you weren't ready for the world to know about us. Told me you didn’t know if you ever would be. I’m trying Scor, I really am, trying to move on. But this isn’t making it easy”

“Its just… When I went to work that day, I never imagined that that was going to be the last time we’d talk, the last time we’d be together. I just thought you’d owl me… I kept waiting for that fire-call, Al”

Al couldn’t say a word. Scorpius was stood close to him now, bergamot and cloves triggering Al’s scent memory. A thousand different thoughts swirled though Al’s head. He swallowed. The street around them was busy, the pavements flooded with last-minute Christmas shoppers, but to Al it felt like the whole world had fell away. He closed his eyes, willing down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. 

“It won’t work Scorpius. I can’t go back to how it was. Please”. Al was exhausted. He just wanted to be home, not playing this game again. He hoped Scorpius could see that and just leave him be. 

But Scorpius didn’t. He didn’t take one step. Instead, he seemed to be fiddling with something inside his coat. A chain? Albus narrowed his eyes, waiting to see what Scor was going to do next. 

It was their emerald engagement engagement rings. 

“I love you Albus Potter” Scor was nearly whispering. There were unshed tears in the corner of his grey eyes. “I’ve never taken them off. I kept them next to my heart. I love you, and I'm sorry. Sorry I didn’t tell the world how much I loved you. Sorry I wasn’t brave enough to find you and tell you. I told dad everything, about us… And you know what? All he wanted was for me to be happy. Told me to leave the Manor and go home. But you’d gone. Left our flat. I thought you’d moved on. And now I see that you have”. 

Al took a step towards Scorpius. He could feel the way their magic sparked around them, the way that the energy flowed between the two of them. It was always like that between them, a miasma of heat and magic shimmering between them, suffused with their love. Their every glance, every touch was filled with fire. Albus smiled, and he reached for Scor’s cold fingers. Moving on had never truly been an option. 

“Moved on? Scorpius, I’ve been broken-bloody-hearted” Al took a deep breath. “Every day. Every day, drinking our stupid bloody tea, missing your smile. Missing us. I’m sorry I pressurised you to come out to the world when you weren't ready. I just got so bloody jealous. I was as much to blame”. 

“But I’m ready now. Tomorrow we’ll go to the Prophet and tell the world about us” Scor’s eyes were wide and he suddenly looked hopeful. “Tell the world we’re getting married next year. I can’t lose you again Albus. That is, if you’ll have me…”

“Well, when you set our wedding date without even ruddy asking it doesn’t look like I’ve got a choice!”. Al knew that his words didn’t carry any real heat, and he was secretly rather thrilled. “And my name comes first. Potter-Malfoy. I don’t care about the alphabet. And you can make our bloody tea in future as well”. 

And then Scorpius did hug him. 

Scor’s arms were as long and warm as he remembered and the delicious scent of bergamot and cloves was just as sweet. As the sleet soaked their skin, and the oblivious crowds of shoppers skirted around them, Al found Scor’s lips. Their kiss was honest and strong, and full of the magic of the future. Albus held onto Scorpius with every ounce of part of his love, and knew that he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Normal Shipmas stories will resume on Monday!


End file.
